While we are on the subject of pubs, and after yesterday's musing, it was interesting to see that the Royal Standard was packed on Sunday afternoon while punters were scarcer at the more aspirational Provenance and Chs. Holden. for (all together now):
........ there is still a place for the traditional crap boozer, those dusty cocoons of cushioned velvet stained with the detritus of a thousand ‘cheers’, those sacred retreats where wobbly pints are passed over split packets of salty pig parts, those refuges from the sanitized outside world that unite people, not in how smart and clean but how utterly shit they are.
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